


Kingdoms To Their Knees

by pumpkinbloods



Series: DCU & MCU crossovers [4]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Crossover, DCU and MCU crossover, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, First Meetings, Nyssa is Selina's mentor, POV Second Person, Rare Pairings, Soulstealer (book), Steggy - Freeform, The League of Assassins (DCU), Training, Unreliable Narrator, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 17:35:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17833058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinbloods/pseuds/pumpkinbloods
Summary: You want to be powerful. You were raised to be a weapon, to be a killer. To be powerful. To bring kingdoms to their knees.“Are you Selina?” She asks, and you’ve never heard your own name said with such softness.





	Kingdoms To Their Knees

**Author's Note:**

> another DC and MCU crossover! this is an AU where like, Peggy and all of them live in the 21st century and the Avengers and such were sent to the League to find Selina because she went missing years ago. it's a little far fetched but it was super duper fun to write.
> 
> hope you all enjoy!

You wake up crying when you’re seven, a woman with blonde hair and sharp features says you have a future. Says you will be powerful. Her name is Talia, next to her stands Nyssa, her sister. You want to be powerful. So when they make an offer, you and all of your seven-year-old wisdom: takes it.

 

* * *

 

Her hands stray on your head before breakfast sometimes. Pushing your dark hair behind your ear and running her cold hand over your ever burning forehead. Everywhere in the league is white.

 

* * *

 

“Weak,” Nyssa calls you when you miss a step.

“Good,” Nyssa calls you when a girl leaves your area with blackberry bruises and blood dripping from her lips.

 

* * *

 

She says that men will fall at your feet, that you will have kingdoms on their knees begging for mercy. She says that you will rule a world one day.

 

* * *

 

You make sure to keep your eyes glassy and blank and not to make friends. You aren’t there to make friends, you are there to train. To kill. To bring kingdoms to their knees.

 

* * *

 

When you sleep, sometimes you dream of a life in the real world. Where you are not trained to be quiet, to stay still, to be unnoticed. You dream of having kids one night, but the next morning in the few seconds you spend thinking about it, you hate it. You don’t dream of kids the next time you dream.

 

* * *

 

You dream of the sweets you see in the stores and the blue house you drive by sometimes when on trips into town. You dream of having a house with a porch swing and watching the sunrise.

You are told to jump, you do. You barely make it, your sisters watch in terror. You’re holding onto an edge, Nyssa doesn’t help you. She watches you howl in pain as your nails spit blood and sweat gleam your face. You keep going for the blue house and sweets you’ll never ever have.

 

* * *

 

The girl - woman - has brown hair. Like yours. It’s pulled back into a curly ponytail and she holds a gun in her hands. When she sees the many men lying in pools of blood at your feet, she lowers her weapon and looks at you with wonder. You cannot tell if she is part of the kingdom.

 

* * *

 

When you pull yourself up, Nyssa doesn’t do anything. Then she does.

“Stand,” she orders. And you do.

Your hands are bleeding and you’re panting, your face is shining with blood and sweat. Your head is throbbing and you cannot feel your own legs. The rest of the girls watch from across the jump, eyeing you and Nyssa with wonder. Your chest would fill with pride but you’re out of all feeling that isn’t pain.

Her hand cups your cheek and you do not lean into the touch. She smiles. “Good.”

She turns away from you and looks at the rest of your sisters on the other side. You see them all get ready to run and jump, because you, the pussycat, got to the side first. They all stare at you in anger as they jump and fall, jump and climb, jump and land with a roll. You stand next to Nyssa with the posture they teach you. Someone screams as they fall, you almost step forward to see; but you don’t. Because Nyssa is next to you. And you do not upset Nyssa without suffering.

 

* * *

 

Your sisters hiss at you in the hallways. They meow and torment you because you were born to a leopard but left before you were old enough to fight. You wake up with balls of hair from brushes on your bed, with homemade cat toys on your bedroom floor.

You cry in the shower, but never ever cry in front of the other girls. A weapon does not cry. A killer does not cry. You do not cry. You are powerful.

You’ve been there longer than most of the other girls, when a new girl comes with blonde hair and hollow eyes, you ask her to sit with you at breakfast. She does. You learn her name is Cleo. She lasts a few weeks then has a breakdown on the training room floor.

A girl goes to choke Cleo, but Cleo is spinning on the girl and has a knife to her neck with tears in her eyes before the girl can make her first move. Nyssa makes a noise and Cleo lets the girl go, not before cutting a line down her cheek. The girl scurries away with blood seeping down her face. Cleo turns to you. When a girl meows, she turns and throws her knife an inch from her face. You bark a laugh, and Nyssa stands blank-faced, diamond earrings gleaming in the light.

 

* * *

 

The woman tucks her gun away and steps forward, your weapon stays on her. As you were taught. The woman raises her hands and stays still. There is gunfire aways away and a scream. You can’t tell if it is one of your sisters or one of the enemies. Or both.

You want to be powerful. You were raised to be a weapon, to be a killer. To be powerful. To bring kingdoms to their knees.

“Are you Selina?” She asks, and you’ve never heard your own name said with such softness.

 

* * *

 

You wake up to someone screaming one night, before a gunshot then quiet. The next morning before breakfast you’re told to clean the blood. Cleo’s room is empty when you go to spar with her, and the girl with a cut cheek is laughing all day.

You go about your classes how you always would, your sisters look at you waiting for a reaction. You do not give them one. But during training, when the girl gets too close, you aim your gun at her best friend.

You tilt your head to the side and smile. “An eye for an eye.”

You don’t end up shooting her friend, but you take out your knife and cut the girl who killed Cleo on her other cheek. Twin cuts, you think. Cleo would be proud of you. Your sisters watch as you leave the training room.

You were born to be this. To be a killer. A weapon. To be powerful.

 

* * *

 

You make your first kill before you can even fully understand death. Nyssa points at the rabbit in front of you, the one with soft white fur. Your hands are shaking and Nyssa slaps your forearm to make you focus harder.

“Do it,” she orders. And you do. The noise echoes the room and white fur is now red. The girls, your sisters as Nyssa calls them, all stand in a line behind you. They clap at your first kill. You smile at the dead, because Nyssa tucks your hair behind your ear and looks down at you.

“Kingdoms to their knees,” she tells you.

“Kingdoms to their knees,” you repeat. And it feels right. This is what you were made for.

 

* * *

 

You lower your weapon. The woman gets closer, hands still up. She doesn’t look like Nyssa or Talia or anyone in the league. Her lip has dried blood on it. “I’m Agent Carter. I’m here to take you someplace safe.”

“I’m safe here,” you say. Because you are. No one from the outside comes in without permission, and Nyssa says you are one of the strongest here. You’ve been here for nearly eleven years. You’re safe here.

Agent Carter smiles sadly, and a man appears in the doorway. He is tall and blonde and is holding a shield with a star in the middle. He holds his weapon to you, so you hold yours to him.

“Steve,” Agent Carter hisses. “Put your weapon down.”

“Peg-” he - _Steve_ \- tries. But Agent Carter holds her hand up. His weapon is down before her hand is by her side again.

 

* * *

 

You go on your first mission when you’re far, far too young, you’ve been at the league for some years and have learned how to know what people want from you.

You wear your stealth suit and made your helmet have cat ears. Your sisters still make fun, but not nearly as much as they used to.

You look into your victims' eyes. “Please,” he pleads. “I can give you money. I have childre-”

You shoot him between the eyes before he can finish the last word of his dying sentence.

 

* * *

 

Nyssa likes you more than your sisters. You can tell because she plays with your dark hair and compliments your work more than she does to anyone else.

Kitten, she calls you. Your claws will destroy even the greatest of men.

Kitten, you say in the mirror. My claws will destroy even the greatest of men.

The words do not feel right. You do not want to destroy, but you have to. Nyssa says it’s your job.

 

* * *

 

Agent Margaret Carter, Peggy as the tall blonde man calls her, walks you out to a small plane, you think about going for your sisters; but you realize that there is no one you want to save.

Steve Rogers sits across from you, next to Agent Carter. You’re wearing your suit and holding your helmet. The one you wear out on missions.

You do not like Steve. He’s too broad, too blonde, too good boy.

You don’t know how to feel about Agent Carter. She doesn’t seem scared of you, nor does she seem suspicious about you like Steve does. She asks for your weapon and when you say you don’t want to give it to her, she doesn’t push. Steve tries to say something but Agent Carter gives him a dirty look. He mumbles and stands up, disappearing behind a door down the alleyway of the plane.

“What do you want from me?” You ask because you were taught to fight. To kill. And you haven’t killed a person without an order from one of your superiors, and you need to know if you have to kill Agent Carter.

“We don’t want anything from you,” Agent Carter says. “We wanted to bring you to safety. You were too young to be in the league.”

You say nothing. Your helmet is in the chair next to you and a bottled water is in the cup holder. You wonder if Nyssa will notice that you’re missing.

“The al Ghul’s are dangerous people,” Agent Carter tells you. “They want to watch the world burn.”

You’re an al Ghul and you don’t want the world to burn. You want power because that is what you were told to want. You’re an al Ghul, and you’re dangerous but Agent Carter isn’t fighting you or trying to kill you.

“I’m an al Ghul,” you tell her.

“No,” she says. “You’re a Kyle. It’s time for you to be free.”

 

* * *

 

Nyssa tells you on your first day of training on what you should want.

“The al Ghul’s want power,” she tells you. “We want power, we want fear. We want to be ahead.”

“Ahead of who?” You ask.

“Ahead of everyone else,” she answers. “Kingdoms to their knees, Kitten.”

You don’t mind the nickname. Later, you’ll find out, that you’re the only one with a nickname.

“Kingdoms to their knees,” you repeat for the first time. She smiles at you, wicked.

 

* * *

 

You live in the Stark Tower, with the Avengers, or whatever they call themselves and Agent Carter.

You have your own floor to yourself, with tall ceilings and wide windows. Everything is white.

You don’t decorate. You fill the master bedroom with a mattress and stacks of books. You fill the closet with clothes from the league. The fridge has takeout food in it and you don’t own any dishes. You have all your weapons in a safe room and sleep with the weapon Agent Carter found you with.

You spend most of your days in the gym or training, or rereading books from the league or sleeping. You go over memories from the league and dissect them to a breaking point. You never go to the outings that the others living with Stark invite you to, you get a phone but you don’t set it up. You spend most days in bed, thinking.

You don’t meet Stark when you move in, but he introduces himself when he gets back from a visit after two days of living on your own floor.

He calls you kitty-cat, you grab a gun and aim it at him. He doesn’t look scared, he isn’t pleading. “Don’t call me that,” you hiss. Then you walk back to your floor and sleep for twelve hours.

 

* * *

 

You cut your hair four days after moving in with Stark. You ask Stark for money when you go to the main floor where Stark hangs out in the mornings. He gives you two hundred dollar bills and you do not thank him.

You walk to the hair salon a few blocks away and chop off your hair. Twenty inches, the hair stylist tells you. You give her the two bills and tell her to keep the change. She smiles at you and you walk out.

You don’t show off your hair, you just go back up to your floor and read a textbook from the league.

 

* * *

 

“Kingdoms to their knees, kitten.”

The blood pools around you, a man is on his knees in front of you. You’re sixteen now, Nyssa stands at the door behind you.

“Kingdoms to their knees,” you say as the bullet leaves your gun and the man yells a cut off scream.

 

* * *

 

Agent Carter visits you after a leaving for three weeks, she doesn’t knock on your door. Or maybe she does. All you know is that one moment you’re sleeping and the next Agent Carter is throwing a glass of water on you and you’re awake.

“Selina,” she sighs. “Get up and get dressed. We’re going out.”

You put on something you used to wear while training with your sisters. Well, now they might be your former sisters.

Agent Carter leads you downstairs and finds Stark at a dining room table. She says a few words and hands her his wallet, then Agent Carter is directing you to a car garage and you’re getting into the driver's side of the car while she starts the car and turns on the radio.

“We’re going shopping,” she tells you while driving out of the garage.

“What for?”

“Clothes,” she says. “Clothes, home decor, food. You’re allowed to be your own person now, Selina. You have to embrace that.”

You don’t understand. You’ve been your own person since birth, haven’t you?

 

* * *

 

Agent Carter tells you to call her Peggy. So you do. She tells you to follow her. So you do. You’re good at taking orders, you have always been good at that. You were trained for that.

She tells you that your hair looks nice. Tells you that it suits your face. She asks if you donated it. You say that you don’t know. She purses her lips and opens a brightly colored door for you.

When you stand in front of it, she smiles.

“Go in,” she tells you. And you do. Because that’s an order.

 

* * *

 

Talia isn’t around as much as Nyssa is, Talia doesn’t like you as much as Nyssa does. Talia likes Amber.

Amber is the girl that killed Cleo, Amber doesn’t like you. You don’t like her. So it’s fair.

When you fight with Amber during training, Nyssa and Talia watch.

She tries to kill you, you don’t let her. She wasn’t born for this.

When you have the chance to kill Amber, Talia says the fight is over. Amber scurries over to Talia. You stand up and Nyssa walks over to you.

Her hands are elegant and you’ve heard rumors about all the pain she has caused with them. She tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles. “Pretty,” she calls you.

“Good job, Kitten.”

You nod and watch as Amber leaves the room with a limp. You are proud of how much pain you’ve caused her. Nyssa is proud too.

 

* * *

 

Peggy helps you pick out clothes and shoes you’d like. Someone asks for a photo with her, she accepts and you watch while looking at pairs of jeans that Nyssa wouldn’t approve of.

“I’m not allowed to wear these clothes,” you tell Peggy. Because you aren’t. You have all the clothes that Nyssa approves of at the tower.

“You’re allowed to wear whatever you want,” Peggy tells you.

“That’s not how she likes it,” you say to Peggy, scanning your eyes over brightly colored summer clothing and signs of models displaying the staged smiles.

“We’re not going to do it her way anymore,” Peggy says. And you believe her.

 

* * *

 

At the league, all the girls have a uniform during class. You’re not allowed makeup or accessories. Your sisters and you all wear the same shoes and clothes during class. During training, everybody has their own type of training outfit.

Nyssa gives you a necklace after four months of being there, you won your first fight.

You wear it all the time, none of your sisters point it out. If Talia notices, she doesn’t say anything.

The necklace has an Egyptian cat on it.

“Kitten,” Nyssa calls you as she pets your hair. Your sisters eye you with envy, but you don’t care. When Nyssa steps away, you win the fight.

 

* * *

 

You go to many stores and buy lots of clothes. Some of it is causal, some of it isn’t. Nyssa wouldn’t like half of it, but Peggy tells you to not think of her. Peggy doesn’t buy any clothes for herself, only for you.

After clothes shopping, Peggy takes you to a furniture store. She helps you pick out things that would look nice together, she helps you choose a bed frame. You get a canopy bed with a pale red comforter and quilts. You choose dressers for your room and lamps to put on either side of your bed. You pick out things for your living room and kitchen. You buy two TVs, one for the living room and one for the kitchen. You buy silverware and dishes, a coffeepot and a toaster. You choose things out for your guestrooms and pick things out to make an office. You get curtains for every room and a record player. You buy paint for your floor. The bathrooms will be light blue and your bedroom will be gold. The living room will be yellow and the guestrooms will be lilac.

You don’t buy anything that’s white.

 

* * *

 

Nyssa says you cannot hesitate. That there is no time nor room to pause.

Normally you don’t, you do your work. You obey the orders. You are a trained weapon.

But sometimes, sometimes when your eyes freeze and the screams are too loud. When your eyes stray a second too long and the missions face. When your missions mouth pleads for one more second, for a last word, when you hesitate. When you pause-

You think of a life in a pretty house with ruffled curtains. You think of having someone to go home to, of never killing again. Of eating sweets and drinking coffee in the morning and dancing in the moonlight. You think of the life you were robbed of.

But the pause lasts not even a second, your eyes focus on the mission in front of you. You finish the mission and Nyssa calls you Kitten.

You will bring kingdoms to their knees. You will be powerful. You will be ahead. You will be-

 

* * *

 

Peggy gets everyone in the tower, all the stupid Avengers to help you paint and decorate. While your floor is getting refurbished, you sleep on Steve and Peggy’s floor. They fight about you, when they think you’re sleeping or when they think you’re not even there.

“She’s dangerous!” Steve yells at Peggy after a month of living with Stark.

“She’s just a girl!” Peggy calls back at him, her voice is firmer.

“She’s a threat,” Steve says as something hits a wall. A shatter.

“She was robbed,” Peggy says solidly. “She was brainwashed.”

 

* * *

 

You’re given chores, not like the ones you were given at the league. You don’t have to wash the blood off the floor. You don’t polish the weapons. You’re told to wash the dishes, to polish the sliver.

You watch movies in the many hours of spare time you have. (Peggy doesn’t let you sleep for hours on end anymore.) You watch The Princess Bride with two siblings named Pietro and Wanda. You like them both, they don’t ask you many questions and Pietro makes funny jokes. He flirts with girls when you go out and Wanda always makes fun of him. Inigo Montoya has scars like Amber does. You find that ironic.

 

* * *

 

Two more people around your age start to hang around more, one of them moves into your floor with you.

Peter Parker and Cindy Moon. Cindy moves into your floor with you, she smiles at the color of the guestroom she has taken for her own.

Peter brings his friends around sometimes, Michelle and Ned. you like Ned, he smiles when he sees you and brings you homemade pumpkin spice muffins.

Michelle brings you books and records. She and Peter are dating, you learn. And it’s sweet. Ned starts dating a girl named Betty who you’ve never met shortly after you learn that Michelle and Peter are dating.

Peggy tells you that there is a benefit coming up soon and that you should go, you say yes. Because you want to go. And you’ve never worn a dress before.

 

* * *

 

You still see her sometimes. In your mirror or when you’re washing the dishes, you mistake the water for blood. You meet Prince T'Challa and Princess Shuri at the benefit, Nyssa sits in the back of your mind while you shake their hands.

“Kingdoms to their knees, Kitten.”

You try to stop thinking about Nyssa, about how many times you had the chance of killing T'Challa and Shuri while you stand next to Peggy and Steve as they make small talk.

 

* * *

 

Twenty-two times that night. You had the chance of bringing a kingdom to their knees twenty-two times.

Nyssa would never forgive you.

 

* * *

 

You don’t like to read or watch horror, spies, killing, slashers, or thrillers. You don’t like meat, the color white or winter. Your lips crack in the cold, Peggy tells you to wear chapstick. You don’t like chapstick. You don’t like small dogs or catfish. You don’t like rosemary mint, it smells like Nyssa. You don’t like when men leer around you or look at you like you’re something to be devoured. You don’t like sleeping in until noon and you don’t like lipstick or rings. You don’t like crowded areas or spendy restaurants. You don’t like when people tuck your hair behind your ear and you don’t like marble or hardwood floors. You don’t like loud music, it sounds like the training room.

You like romances and fantasy and mystery and poetry. You like fruits and baked goods. You like the colors black and green. You like when it rains and you like making eyeliner and sparkly eyeshadow. You like Russian blue hair cats and turtles. You like the smell of Cindy’s shampoo and Peggy’s perfume. You like when men leave you alone or call you Ms. Kyle. You like when girls smile at you shyly. You like waking up early and getting breakfast or making breakfast. You like glossier lip gloss and thread bracelets. You like homemade meals, takeout and movie nights with the Avengers. You like it when Peggy cups your chin or pats your hands. You like it when Cindy lays her head in your lap and lets you play with your hair. You like carpet or stone flooring. You like indie music and soft pop, you like classic bands that write simple songs about drugs, falling in love and war.

Peggy reads all of your likes and dislikes when you put them in your notebook, she tells you that it’s good you’re becoming your own person. That you’re learning things about yourself.

 

* * *

 

Steve warms up to you, he even says you’re a good shot in the shooting range. Steve and Bucky call you Lena, they pat your back after training and they make bets on you and Nat when you spar with her. You hardly ever win against Nat, but you don’t mind. Nat still trains with you. She calls you cat.

Come here, _cat._ Lunch is ready, _cat._ Movie night is starting, _cat._

You like being called Cat, it’s much better than Kitten ever was.

 

* * *

 

Peggy tells you that you should join the team, the Avengers. Cindy is already a part of it, so is Peter. _Silk,_ Cindy is called. _Spider-man,_ Peter is called.

You wonder what your name would be, if you ever joined. Peggy looks at you like you’ve gone insane when you ask her what your name would be.

“Well,” she says. “It’s up to you to decide what you’d like to be called.”

 

* * *

 

“Kitten,” Nyssa yells at you when men with American accents storm into the league. “Bring them to their knees.”

You nod. Every person that walks in the room, is on their knees begging for mercy. They don’t get that. You do your job. You do not flinch when they scream, when they plead, when they look at you.

The person doesn’t walk in through the door in front of you, they walk in through a broken window. They could kill you if they wanted to.

You spin to face them, your weapon raised at them. Your hands shake slightly and blood rushes through your ears.

The person is a girl. You’ve never killed a girl before.

 

* * *

 

“But,” Peggy says when you go on your phone. Your home screen is of you and Cindy, your lock screen is of you and Peggy. “I like Catwoman.”

 

* * *

 

You see Nyssa in New York once.

“Kitten,” you hear. You turn around at the chilling voice. She stands in front of you, you’re taken aback to the league. To training. To being a weapon. Nat is still inside the coffee shop, she told you to find a table outside.

Nyssa wears her dark hair is down, cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her clothing is more casual than you’ve ever seen them, a dark olive green dress and heeled lace-up boots. She wears diamond earrings like she always does. She has a small purse, and you’d bet anything that a gun is in it. She looks at you like she’s never seen you before, you still wear the necklace she gave you years ago.

“You didn’t do it,” she snips. “You weren’t ahead. Now, look at where you are.”

You say nothing, she cups your cheek. You do not lean into the touch. Her hand tucks your short hair behind your ear. “I don’t like your hair.”

You stare blank faced. It’s harder now, you’ve been better at expressing emotion. But now, you go back to your old ways.

“You were supposed to bring them to their knees, Kitten.”

You can feel people looking at you, you can feel Nyssa’s disappointment radiating through the hand on your face.

“You failed me,” she says. Her hand, cold, always cold, goes to the back of your neck. She unclasps the necklace, it falls into her hand. You feel bare.

“Kingdoms to their knees, Kitten.”

“Cat?” Nat calls after Nyssa finishes her sentence. You turn your head to look at Nat, her face is etched with confusion.

You look back at Nyssa, but she’s gone. You can smell rosemary mint and fear.

 

* * *

 

Cindy holds your hand when you’re introduced to the world. The team smiles at you and Peggy’s eyes are rimmed with tears. When a reporter asks what your name is, you look at Peggy, then the cameras and think of Nyssa’s cold hands and Cleo. You think of your training and the men begging for sympathy, you think of all your likes and dislikes. You think of your old world and new world, the league and the Avengers. You think of everything you were and everything you are and everything you will become.

“My name,” you say into the variety of microphones, “is Catwoman.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
